THE DARK THRESHOLD, Excerpt #3

A new excerpt. Thank you all for your patience. Enjoy!

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“Amanda?” It was Juan, calling from the parlor entrance. “Amanda? Are you all right?”

Amanda did not turn at the sound of her name, but she involuntarily stiffened. “Define ‘all right,’” she whispered to the glass.

Juan cleared his throat. “Are you all right here with Helena? Can I get you anything?”

Amanda picked at the windowsill where a scrap of paint had chipped away, leaving a crescent of bare wood. She sniffed out a bitter chuckle. “Why would you want to do anything for me, Juan?”

“Pardon?”

“I’m the reason you’re all fucked up right now.”

Juan made a noise deep in his throat, somewhere between a choked laugh and a grunt. “Maelstrom is the reason I’m like this. I should have known just how far he’d penetrated us, before I put all of you in harm’s way.”

Amanda’s eye widened. “Are you blaming yourself for me being a traitor?” she asked as she leaned a fist against the cold glass, wondering suddenly how much force it would take to punch through. “That’s too kind, even for you.”

“I never stopped being your friend, Amanda,” Juan replied softly.

“Then if you’re my friend, you’ll do one thing for me. Just one thing, Juan. And I won’t be refused.”

“If I can,” Juan replied, surprised. “Tell me.”

Amanda turned on her heel to face him. “I can only assume you’re leaving soon to help Norris. Tell me I’m right.”

Juan nodded. “You’re right. Why?”

“Because I want to come with you.”

The leader of Verite regarded her evenly, his face a mask. “Why?” he asked. “You’re under no obligation to go.”

Amanda studied the man, aware for the first time this evening how pale he looked. The drugs and maltreatment inflicted on him by Maelstrom had certainly taken their toll. Any doctor in her right mind would have told him one thing: go back to bed. Yet he would not go back to bed, she was sure. Juan had to be at the front of things, always on the cutting edge. Even if he was cut by that same edge. “Obligation?” she retorted. “None of us is under any obligation. Especially you in your condition.”

Juan detached himself from Helena and rubbed his face with his hands. “Fair enough,” he conceded. “I apologize.”

“I’m the best doctor you have,” Amanda continued, approaching Juan as she spoke. “Your soldiers are going to war for you. They are going to get shot up. Also, if you’re not going to get proper bedrest after what you’ve been through, then you ought to be monitored. And last but not least, if Daniel ever finds Anna, she’s going to be having a baby soon. Hell, I’m surprised that her stress hasn’t gotten that baby out by now.” Her eyes flashed. “Put me to work, Juan. Give me something to do so I don’t have to think about the past few days. I’m so tired of thinking. I want to do.”

THE DARK THRESHOLD - Chapter One

Friends, I promised a surprise and I'm here to make good on the promise. Along with the selections I'm posting as I write, I decided to release the first chapter of THE DARK THRESHOLD in its entirety. This may be subject to change in the edit process, but here is Chapter One as it currently stands.

- ONE -

Lights stabbed through winter twilight, setting the raging blizzard ablaze with twin beams of shifting white fire. The matte-black Spyder assault vehicle crushed along through the storm with an urgency born of terror. Its driver blindly felt his way through swirling snow as he struggled to put miles between him and the gory scene he had left behind.

Night was falling, yet safety was nowhere to be found.

Mr. Vickers squinted hard out of the truck’s windshield as he drove, straining to see the street ahead in the gathering darkness. The pelting snow dizzied him. It felt as though a tunnel of spacetime had engulfed him and a frantic starfield rushed towards his face, hurtling to the side at the last moment with every flick of the windshield wipers. The autodrive and mapping function hung limp from a sheaf of ripped wires dangling from the dashboard, killing any chance of using the nav computer for guidance. Not like he’d want to do that. A working nav computer meant that Central Admin could track him, and that was the very last thing he needed.

The adrenaline that had flowed in his veins only ten minutes before had begun to recede, leaving tattered exhaustion and confusion in its wake. Explosions still rang in his ears and flashed behind his eyes. Disturbing images and impressions as well: the sight of a little girl smashing a full-grown man into a door, then blowing him away with automatic gunfire; the concussion of a grenade shattering glass, the stench of blood. His mind still refused to accept what he’d seen, although he knew that it was not only possible but true. He should have known all along that Sonya was capable of such violence. Because her father was too…

Mr. Vickers spared a short glance to the back seat where the curled-up form of that same little girl was barely visible in the dingy light. Drying blood caked her clothes and hands. Her breathing came in erratic, chaotic bursts. Her eyes were fixed wide open; two barely blinking stony orbs, staring at nothing. Her teeth chattered but not with the cold. A look of profound terror gripped her features. As Mr. Vickers turned to look at her she shied away behind her hands and her entire body tightened.

“Sonya,” the old priest breathed barely above a whisper. “Talk to me. Please.”

“NO!” the little girl screamed back, a violent, shrill sound. The sound of a mind without focus, a body that obeyed other powers. “Get the voices out! Make them stop! My head hurts!”

Mr. Vickers turned back and tried to keep an eye on the road while he glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. He ached with empathy as he listened to her. “I know it does, Sonya. But we have to get away from the men who tried to hurt you before I can help you.”

“Leave me alone! Shut up!” Sonya shrieked back at him. Her breathing went ragged, causing her whole body to twitch with the effort. “They're all dead, I made them die.” She slipped a thumb into her mouth and began to suck, the other hand pulling distractedly at her hair. Dried blood flaked from her fingers onto the seat as she fidgeted.

Mr. Vickers gave up on reasoning with her for the moment. It was useless. Her mind had snapped, some synapse in her tortured brain losing a vital connection to some other corner. If the grim data Verite had captured on the reactive computer bore out, Sonya would be facing massive problems very soon. But how soon? And what sorts of problems? Every person who’d been programmed via the reactive computer responded to its electronic violations differently.

He gritted his teeth and concentrated on the road again. There were a couple places they could go, none of them ideal but at this point nothing was ideal. His mind fixed on one in particular, a home in Arlington owned by a man whom he called friend. Doctor Harold Mann, a cardiovascular surgeon too timid to join Verite outright but not so timid that he refused outright to help when called upon. At least, Mr. Vickers hoped he could call upon the man now, if only for temporary relief. Going toward Central Admin made his stomach ill, but fleeing back west was out of the question now. Sonya had heard a second assault team approaching from the back yard, and the priest was sure that if Central Admin was coming from that direction, then they knew about the service road. They would know which direction he would flee.

In fact, it sounded like Central Admin knew the whole truth now.

Mr. Vickers’ heart convulsed with grief at the thought of Annalise. Annalise, that poor troubled woman, so strong and yet so weak, grasping for goodness but recoiling like a person burned when she found it. Annalise. Verite’s eyes and ears inside Central Admin. His reluctant but persistent pupil, an earnest soul asking all the right questions. His eyes burned with tears as he remembered their last interaction that morning in her kitchen. He’d held the loaded magazine for her gun in his hands, turning it over and over as he waited for her to descend the stairs on her way to work. He knew as soon as he’d seen her that she’d been crying all night long; that look of utter desperation and despair on her beautiful face haunted him. What would become of her now he could only imagine. No, he didn’t want to imagine. It was too ugly to contemplate.

He put all of that out of his mind and returned to the task at hand. Arlington lay somewhere beyond the swirling snow in front of him, but even reading street signs in this weather proved difficult. He strained to see the signs at the next intersection and his heart leaped when the marker for George Mason Drive came into view. George Mason Drive led directly to the Virginia Hospital Center, although that wasn’t quite where he wanted to go. Walking into any hospital within a fifteen-mile radius with a psychotic little girl in tow would get them both arrested on the spot. No, three blocks past the hospital was the real destination. Dr. Mann would be getting the surprise of his life tonight at his home.

But the first rule of the day: to ditch the Spyder. That had to be done before anything else. To continue toting it around was suicide. Perhaps Sonya could be persuaded to walk? Or perhaps Dr. Mann could help there too. The good doctor stood a foot taller than Mr. Vickers and had always been the one with the stronger back, if Sonya needed carrying.

Another ten minutes passed in relative silence, the only sounds being the swish of snow against the tires of the truck and the flick-flick of the wiper blades. Of the few cars that passed him, all gave him a wide berth as he hoped they would. The falling snow intensified, limiting his vision to only about fifty feet beyond the hood of the Spyder. He saw the hospital creep by on his left and began counting houses, paranoid that he would somehow not recognize the place. One, two, three blocks passed, and a familiar faux wrought-iron lamppost came into view on the left side. Beyond lay a two-story detached home in a dismal brown color, made all the more dismal by the ice that crusted it. It hunched on the top of a little hill like a shivering homeless man trying to fit between two trash cans.

Mr. Vickers hesitated, then sped up before turning left at the following corner. Parking a Spyder in the doctor’s driveway would be stupid. There was an alleyway down the side street here, he knew, which would conceal the vehicle long enough for him to alert Dr. Mann to the situation. He pulled into the alley and turned the truck’s systems off, then turned to Sonya again.

“I will be right back, Sonya,” he whispered into the back seat, pondering the girl’s sprawled form. “Sonya? Sonya?!”

There was no answer. Sonya’s eyes were closed, but she was not asleep in any normal sense of the word. Her body kept twitching, small but disturbing uncontrolled movements of her arms and legs. Her eyes moved behind the lids, quick and persistent. Her breathing had shallowed considerably since the last time she’d spoken.

“So it’s already begun,” Mr. Vickers murmured, his heart thudding in mild panic. There wasn’t much time.

He pushed the door open into a chilling breeze and slid down to the pavement, landing in almost a foot of snow. More snow still fell all around him, rasping lightly against the world as it settled down. With one last glance into the Spyder to make sure Sonya was going nowhere, the priest shuffled down the alley and up the steps into Dr. Mann’s side yard. The snow piled even deeper up here, away from the protective walls of the alley. He pushed his way to the side door of the drab brown house and knocked three times hard.

A long tense moment passed, a moment of hesitation and doubt that Dr. Mann would show his face. Mr. Vickers heard no movement, saw nothing through the thin gauzy curtains guarding the window of the door from prying eyes. Then, when he had determined to knock once more, he saw a shadow descend on the curtain and watched as a hand from inside pushed the fabric aside. A round face framed in long graying hair appeared in the gap, a sad expression on the ample mouth. The mouth opened in a small gape, then the doorknob rattled as the doctor unlocked the bolt.

“Edmund Vickers,” Dr. Mann exclaimed under his breath, looking the priest up and down with a sad appraising glance. “As I live and breathe. Although you tend to bring trouble my way. Will I be allowed to live and breathe for much longer, I wonder?”

“You gloomy old fool,” Mr. Vickers retorted, cracking a small smile and clasping hands with his friend. The smile faded in the next instant. “I need your help, and I need it now. I have no one else I can ask right now. Please tell me you can help.”

Dr. Mann withdrew his hand and cracked his knuckles nervously. “What sort of help?”

“A girl under my charge, no more than about eight years old. She’s slipping into a coma and she needs treatment.” Mr. Vickers stopped, then added with reluctance, “We’ve been found out, Harold. Central Admin is looking for us. I won’t lie to you about how much danger this puts you in.”

Dr. Mann rubbed his hands together, his breath steaming nervously into the frigid air. “Shit. I wish you had lied to me.”

Mr. Vickers shrugged as the smile returned for a moment. “I’m a priest, Harry. It wouldn’t be right.”

Dr. Mann snorted. “Sometimes I regret the day I met you, Ed.” He thrust his head out the door, glancing around. “Where is this girl?”

“Her name is Sonya. She’s immobile in the back of my vehicle. I wondered if you could carry her inside while I ditch the truck.”

The surgeon’s eyebrows shot up. “Whose car did you use?”

“Long story.” Mr. Vickers hesitated again. “And … don’t mind the blood. It’s not hers, although she’s covered in it.”

“Fuck this,” Dr. Mann grumbled, snatching his coat off a hook by the door and following Mr. Vickers outside. “Next time this happens you fucking lie to me, Ed. I don’t want to know why or what you’re doing.”

“If there even is a next time,” Mr. Vickers shot back ruefully.

Opening Quote for THE DARK THRESHOLD

Cowards die many times before their deaths;

The valiant never taste of death but once.

Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,

It seems to me most strange that men should fear;

Seeing that death, a necessary end,

Will come when it will come.

-- William Shakespeare

THE DARK THRESHOLD, Excerpt #2

An excerpt from Chapter 3 of The Dark Threshold. Enjoy.

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     The moment Sandra first heard gunshots, she’d crouched back down on the porch where she and Luis had taken up station and sighted her rifle on Mr. Vickers’ house. When she couldn’t see anything in that direction, she turned her weapon back up the street towards the approaching trouble. “Luis, give me ranging info and speed on the lead Spyder.”

     Luis brought his binoculars to his face. “Not sure you can penetrate the powertrain of a Spyder from here,” he worried out loud.

     “I’m not going for the powertrain,” Sandra responded shortly. “Range, please.”

     Luis squinted into the binoculars. “One hundred fifteen yards, traveling at twenty miles per hour.” He slipped his hearing protection over his ears. “How does the windshield look to you?”

     “No deflection glass, these rounds will penetrate.”

     The radio crackled in her ear and she heard Daniel’s desperate voice, but the words he spoke didn’t even register in the moment before she pulled the trigger. The giant rifle exploded with power, sending its round streaking downrange in the blink of an eye. The lead Spyder’s windshield spiderwebbed and a gout of blood doused the glass from the inside. The vehicle abruptly swerved to its right, clipped a parked car, then spun out on the icy road in front of the autotank that rumbled along behind it. All three vehicles came to a messy stop in the middle of the road eighty yards away.

THE DARK THRESHOLD, Excerpt #1

At long last, it is my pleasure to bring you all your first glimpse at the final book of the SubVersion Trilogy, THE DARK THRESHOLD. Enjoy trying to figure out what the hell is going on!

EXCERPT #1

The resounding thud of rockets impacting on the tank was dwarfed by the double sonic boom that crashed over Daniel and his men, huddled on the ground while the two fighters screamed overhead and arced upward into the overcast sky. Daniel heard windows shatter in the buildings behind him. He gingerly raised his head and looked down the bridge towards the tank.

All that was left of the once fearsome machine was a pile of twisted black wreckage, the carcass of some giant fighting beetle squashed by an even more giant boot. Its remains sparked and burned, shooting off a metallic pinging noise as unfired rounds in its destroyed magazine cooked off and detonated.

“And that's how we do that,” the comm announced, with more than a hint of pride. “Those tanks are a bitch to take out.”

Daniel tapped the comm button. “It's good to have you in my sky again, Benaras. You keep on blowing shit up.” He stood and shouted to his men. “Into the trucks! We're running out of time!”

As the group rushed back into their assault vehicles Daniel's comm crackled again. It was Cooke this time. “What else do you need destroyed?” he asked in his sonorous voice. “Our sensors are picking up at least two more autotanks in your immediate area, and a lot of movement on the street beyond your bridge. Looks like it might be your SubVersion army.”

Daniel swung into the lead truck's passenger seat. “If you can, buzz the whole lot of them. Clear us a path to Central Admin's front door. That's where we're going.”

“Roger that.”

“Feel free to soften up Central Admin's security perimeter too, while you're at it.”

“Roger that too.”

“And Cooke?” Daniel hesitated, his stomach and his heart sinking. “Don't hit Central Admin itself. There's someone inside that we have to get out, alive.”

“We'll make it happen. Out.”

Daniel slammed the door shut and leaned to the driver. “Go! Get us over this damn bridge!”

THE DEMON MAELSTROM is now live and available for purchase in paperback, for your Kindle device, or your smartphone Kindle app. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it for you.
Please leave a review on Amazon when you're done, reviews are one of the best things you can give me as a writer! (Just don't post any spoilers in the reviews, this book is rather heavy on surprises.)
Again, enjoy.

The paperback is available here.

The Kindle version is available here.

The Demon Maelstrom, Excerpt #10

It was the same feeling as when Miriam was torn from him.

All around him, the world spun in a free-fall bedlam of noise and smoke and death. Everywhere he looked he saw the dead, and the ones doing the butchering, and heard the rush of jellied gasoline that preceded the scorching blast of fire that erupted behind him. His tenuous control of the mayhem had finally slipped free of his fingers. The order of the day was now to survive, to get out at all costs with anyone left alive.

The devil-masked SubVersion soldiers had surmounted the outer sandbagged defense and now swarmed towards the rear inside the original defensive line, bodily smashing through the remainder of Daniel's forward squad. Every shot they fired hit flesh, and when they got too close to fire they drew knives and hacked their way through. As they coursed around the conference center from both sides, Daniel spotted several racing across the roof carrying flame throwers. They stabbed the flame throwers through the cavity in the roof and lit them up, engulfing the building in a blast of roiling flame.

“Get them out! Go! Move!” Daniel shouted into his mic, waving a hand to the second-to-last assault vehicle sitting at the top of the hill. Its occupants crouched in the cover of its open doors, laying down a blistering barrage of fire with their assault rifles. Simon spotted Daniel at the same time he heard his voice over the radio, and he nodded to Daniel. His face was a mask of despair, but he didn't waver. He shouted to his men and they shut themselves into the vehicle. Simon jumped into the driver's seat and mashed the accelerator pedal, sending the truck speeding down the hill towards the cover of the surrounding woods.

Daniel glanced back to the building and saw another SubVersion soldier rush to the edge of the roof, cradling a rocket launcher on his shoulder. Daniel whipped his rifle around and took aim, but was caught sideways when a grenade rolled into the dirt nearby and exploded. The shock and flying mud punched him off balance and sent him reeling to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the flash of a rocket igniting, and a trail of white smoke as said rocket streaked downhill towards its target.

A Release Date and an Excerpt

I already made an announcement about it on Facebook, but I shall now make it official on the blog as well. The Demon Maelstrom will make its debut in print and Kindle ebook editions on the 31st of December of this year. That's right, there is now a timetable! Woohoo!

And to celebrate the announcement, here is one of the last excerpts that I will be posting before the book is released.

EXCERPT

The vehicle arrived in two minutes, and when Amanda saw the headlights approaching she rushed to it and hopped into the passenger's side of the warm interior. Kahua sat in the driver's seat and he flashed her a grin. “Where to, my lady?” he inquired cheerfully, putting the car into reverse and backing out into the street.

“My home,” she replied distantly. “I need sleep, and I need it now.”

“Bad operation? Dr. Charles said it would be complex, no?”

“Something like that,” Amanda replied. “No, not bad … just … melancholy.”

Kahua glanced over at her lap briefly before returning his eyes to the road ahead. “What's in the package?” he asked conversationally.

Amanda jumped a little at the question. “Oh, just Charles trying to buy back my affection,” she said, fingering the case. “A brain scanner he scrounged for us to use with the SubVersions. I'll take it over right away after our meeting tonight.”

Kahua raised his eyebrows. “Some men…” he remarked almost to himself.

“Yeah,” Amanda breathed, her stomach knotting with an unknown feeling. “Some men.” She pulled the envelope free from the brain scanner case and turned it over in her hands. Her name was scrawled on the front in a masculine cursive hand, Amanda. She bit her lip at Charles' handwriting, a flood of memories rushing back and threatening to carry her away on their rising tide. Shaking her head, she slid a finger into the top of the envelope and ripped it open, pulling out the card inside.

A cartoon man stared at her from the front of the card, an apologetic grin on his face and his hands holding a wrapped gift which he held out to the viewer. Amanda smiled at the words “Let's Be Friends?” arcing over the cartoon man's head in puffy red letters. She flipped the card open…

…and her heart stopped.

Inside were a few short sentences written in black pen:

Dear Amanda,

Remember what you are, a snitch and a liar. Central Admin has not forgotten Project Wraith.

The brain scanner you carry must go to where Vérité is keeping the SubVersions they stole, and it must be placed near a window. If both of these conditions are not met in the next twenty-four hours, Dr. Charles Wallace will be tortured to death. If you reveal any of this to anyone, especially your Vérité friends, I will expose Project Wraith and you will hang, either from Vérité's gibbet or Central Admin's.

You decide.

Have a good night, Mandy.

Love, Maelstrom

A New Excerpt for a New Day

Well, it's now March of 2016, but I haven't abandoned y'all! I have some more excerpts coming up, including this one. Enjoy, and have fun guessing!


EXCERPT

A flash of humor crossed Anna's mind and she grinned at him. “I've stopped sleeping around, if that makes you feel any better. I've got that part down, I know you frown on that.”

Mr. Vickers' mouth spasmed, maybe a smile, maybe not. “That's a start,” he remarked.

“And I'm not getting drunk anymore!” she continued, not sure whether the joke was over yet. “Something must be getting through.”

The old priest stepped back and leaned on the counter, regarding her earnestly with piercing eyes. He waited for so long to speak that Anna suddenly feared that she had offended him somehow. He licked his lips, then squinted at her with a strange look in his eye. “So, how long do you think either of those achievements will last?”

Anna was taken aback. “How long? I dunno, hopefully forever.”

Mr. Vickers held her eyes with his, still squinting at her. “Forever? That's your best guess?”

“I think so. Why?”

He looked down at the floor but his voice still filled the space between them with its quiet weight. “And when the original reasons for the drunkenness and sleeping around return, what then? What motive will you have to deny those temptations? Will you truly have the freedom to say 'no'?”

Anna frowned at him. “Are you suggesting that I can't be a good and decent person just the way I am? Are you already questioning my resolve?”

Still staring at the floor, the old man answered her bluntly. “Yes, I am. Until what you've heard with your ears and understood with your head filters into your heart and becomes its lifeblood, you will fall. Maybe not today, but the time will come when your resolve will be severely tested, possibly beyond its limits.” He lifted his head back up and locked stares with her, and somewhere deep inside his eyes Anna detected a flicker of paternal fear. “And when that day comes, that's when we find out where your strength really comes from, yourself or from above.” He cast her a grim smile. “Everyone fails the ideal, even saints. But we don't trash the ideal just because we don't always reach it.”

Anna's face contorted in a storm of mixed emotions. She sat down at the table and put her head in her hands, stroking her temples through her mussed hair and trying to hide from the man's gaze. “I'm not the person I was then,” she offered by way of placating him. “Jesse's out of my life. I've stopped drinking. I'm not that woman anymore.”

Mr. Vickers pushed off from the counter and approached the table. “So, your transformation is all negatives? Jesse is gone, the drinking has stopped, you've stopped thinking the way you did before? How does one live a life full of things that are not present?”

Anna looked back up at him and shook her head. “You're damn confusing sometimes, you know that?”

He frowned at her. “You know what I'm talking about, Annalise. Don't play stupid.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, I do know. But I might disagree.”

THE DEMON MAELSTROM Cover Concept Art

So the first draft of the cover for The Demon Maelstrom is complete and ready to show. I'm trying to preserve a sense of continuity in the looks of all three covers, with the solid background and the iconic silhouette. I hope y'all like it, and let me know what you think!

Another Goody for My Readers

This week is turning out to be quite the treat for you all who are following the creation of the second book of my trilogy! I have another small excerpt from what I've been writing, which I hope you'll enjoy. Again, let me know what you think, with any possible theories as to what it happening in the scene in question. I love to hear speculation as to what you think is going on.


THE DEMON MAELSTROM -- EXCERPT

Adam watched the craft rise up in a kind of hypnotized silence, only rousing himself when it had ascended to half the height of the Central Admin building and begun to turn towards Georgetown. His mouth bent into a macabre grimace as he laid the sniper rifle on the side of the Phalanx's turret mount, powering on the scope and hunching behind the weapon. He closed his left eye and peered through the scope, noting the flickering digital numbers underneath the cross hairs that accounted for wind speed and direction. A diamond-shaped tracking pip appeared on the scope and locked onto the helicopter's slowly retreating shape, following it doggedly as Adam slowly shifted position and locked the gun's chamber shut.

He froze as the window of the helicopter turned towards him and the head of a woman appeared in his target reticle. He could clearly make out Anna in the co-pilot's seat, bent over her tablet working on something, her long hair draped around her like a heavy concealing curtain. She reached up with the hand closest to him and swept her hair behind her ear, and Adam swallowed as he stared at her pale face. She was beautiful, a graceful creature, a dead lookalike for her mother.

A hot tear not caused by the wind trickled down his cheek, followed by another one from the other eye. His whole body became rigid, shivering more from some undefinable emotion than from the cold. He swallowed again, blinked to clear his targeting eye, and put his face back to the scope. The helicopter had turned farther and Anna's figure was no longer easily visible. The craft's engines made an easy target, however, and Adam's cross hairs drifted towards the right hand engine as his finger moved towards the trigger.

His body relaxed again, a necessary prerequisite for a decent shot. He breathed slowly several times, compensating the reticle in response to the changing numbers inside the scope as he did so, zoning in mentally. His thumb drifted over and dropped the safety switch to the Fire position, and his index finger wrapped around the trigger.

Breathe. Recheck the numbers. Breathe again.

At the last moment his lips parted, his eyes clouding over for a split second as a memory rampaged through his mind and left his features contorted with suppressed feeling. He drew in a long breath, let it out halfway, and squeezed the trigger all the way to the trigger guard.

A New Excerpt For My Patient Audience

I'm almost reluctant to post this excerpt as it deals with a pivotal moment in the book, but I think it's both vague and enticing enough to whet your appetites more. This entire scene has been exhausting to write but I think it is coming together exactly the way I wanted it.

We are once again reminded that our heroine, Miss Annalise McLean, is no saint. What she is upset about remains for you to find out on launch day.

Have fun!


THE DEMON MAELSTROM, EXCERPT ----

Anna dissolved into a fresh wave of tears and buried her face in the couch pillow. After several body-racking sobs she let out a horrendous scream at the top of her lungs, only for the sound to die into the upholstered surface muffling her mouth. She screamed again and again into the pillow, feeling her throat vibrate and strain, emptying her lungs in one shriek of grief after another until nearly hoarse. She felt like wrecking something, like throwing Central Admin onto the floor in a rage and smashing it into tiny pieces as if it were fine china. She wanted Adam dead.

As she lay weeping on the couch a sudden craving rose up inside her, a bitter tide of lust for numbness and indifference in the face of all this despair. She knew that feeling all too well but it filled her now like it never had before, consuming her body with the urge she knew she should resist at all costs. Her stomach growled at her, her head swam a bit as a pulsating ache occupied itself with tormenting her left eye.

She wanted alcohol. Now.

Her willpower to resist evaporated. Once the decision had clicked over in her brain she acted almost without thinking. A kind of tunnel vision set in and she knew she was standing and moving towards the cabinet on the far wall. It was a kind of buffet service with a wide glassed-in cabinet on top, and behind the glass lay several bottles of choice red wine. A warning bell in her mind blared in vain that it was the wine Mr. Vickers used for mass, that she ought not even touch it much less drink it like the alcoholic she knew she was. She grabbed the door handles and pulled.

The cabinet rattled but didn't open. She pulled again, and only on the third tug realized that a lock held the doors fast shut. Some neuron in her brain spasmed and she pulled her sweater sleeve over her fist and struck the glass hard. The glass splintered with a muffled crack and she cleared it away hurriedly with her wrapped hand, then reached in for the closest bottle. In her rush to extract it from its nesting place she banged her fingers on the inside edge of the door, sending excruciating pain radiating up from her knuckles. Swearing hard, she snatched up the wine key from the lower shelf and knifed open the foil around the neck of the bottle, then drove the corkscrew into the cork and extracted it with the precision and speed of a former master of the art. Without even attempting to look for a glass of any kind she put the bottle to her lips and took a long swig.

THE DEMON MAELSTROM: A New Excerpt, For My Patient Fans

For everyone waiting patiently for the release of the second book in my trilogy, here is another excerpt from my work so far. I'm sorry it's been a while since anything new has been released; I've been dealing with issues both medical and personal, and the words simply would not come. However, the floodgates of inspiration seem to have opened again and the words are forming into sentences which are forming into paragraphs, which have formed another chapter of this book.

-- BEGINNING OF EXCERPT --

He was perhaps twenty steps beyond the doorway, outside security camera range, when he suddenly bore to his right and began skirting parallel to the front of the building. He checked his tablet: still within range of their network. He switched apps and pulled up a simple window with a large cartoon picture of a bomb in the middle, in the middle of which was the single word BOOM! He grinned at his own whimsy as he crouched behind a decorative maple tree growing from a hole in the concrete entrance patio. At the moment only he was aware of his charms; soon the whole city would know them intimately. Of course he had to reserve a bit for himself, but that only served to spice up his own experience of the intricate plan now beginning to unfold.

Thirty seconds…

Steam clouded out from his mouth as he huddled near the tree, his gaze now glued to his watch as the digital numbers ticked down the seconds he had left. At the twenty second mark his finger moved to hover over the obscene little picture of the bomb, and at fifteen seconds he mashed it a little harder than he needed to. QX computer code began to stream across the screen, duplicating itself across the invisible data connection into the giant building beyond. Gerald watched the code with a face full of almost childlike expectation; an eager, hungry face that twisted into a grin when he began to see his success in the code.

Inside the building, in the languid atmosphere of the glass guard booth, a warning began to flash on the security camera feed. All three guards glanced up and soon found themselves glued to the screens in a daze of non-comprehension. Each screen blinked, stuttered, then dissolved into strange code that streamed across a dark background. The master intrusion alarm began to sound and red lights lit up the entrance lobby. Tony looked back at the other two guards, his face ashen. “Did either of you two mess with our camera feed data?” The pair of guards shook their heads back at him, their faces equally astonished.

The screens blinked again and then turned white, and a single word appeared in the center of each one: SURPRISE!

Zero and zero seconds.

The Demon Maelstrom, Excerpt #4

Dear Readers,

Here is the fourth excerpt from The Demon Maelstrom, the second book in the SubVersion Trilogy. I hope you enjoy, and I hope it keeps you guessing! Stay tuned for more news and content about the book, and as always, Let There Be Life!

Excerpt #4

“I'm here,” Sam admitted, “to talk about one person in particular who happens to interest me greatly. Someone who has been needing thorough investigation for months now.”

Farkas shot him a despairing look. “Is that person the next in line to the Secretary's desk, perchance? Is it a woman? Is she the one redesigning our entire computer and database system here at Central Admin? And is her name Annalise McLean? Because if the person you're talking about bears any resemblance to that woman then I can assure you that I am not interested.”

Color flushed into Sam's face and he moved to the edge of the seat in his anger. “How could you not be interested?”

“It's easy, Sam,” Farkas shot back. “You have absolutely nothing on her. I have nothing on her. She is as clean as a whistle, and I am not interested. You've had seven months and you've failed to change my mind.”

Sam dropped his briefcase next to the chair and slammed a fist onto the armrest, causing the metal to vibrate dully. With an oath he verbally tore into the other man. “Her commex stayed in her house in exactly the same place for eighteen hours! And after she came back to Central Admin was when everything began to fall apart! And speaking of falling apart, she fell apart when I- when Captain James died, and now on top of everything else she's pregnant! There's a pattern here, I tell you, and nobody else is concerned about it!”

Farkas jumped to his feet and propped himself over the desk, his burning eyes fixed in a glare on Sam's face. “She's clean, Sam! She's clean, cleaner than anyone I've ever known! Jim Jarvis in IT has scanned her personal office computer and found nothing, three separate times! We've followed her movements throughout Central Admin and they represent nothing erratic! We've run trace after trace on the wedge file data dump that Vérité pulled on you and Jim, and the only thing we've been able to find is that it ends in the UK, nothing else. Miss McLean is either completely innocent of any attachment to Vérité or she is one of the best hackers on the planet.” He glowered at his old boss. “In short, if she is Vérité then she's a ghost.”

 Sam stared back incredulously. “And you've done nothing else? Like have her followed to her home?”

Farkas groaned and sat back down. “Don't start on this again.”

“Answer my question!” Sam insisted. “You didn't have her followed? Why in the world not?”

“Because I was not authorized to do so,” Farkas replied wearily. “As a matter of fact, I was told to avoid doing so at all costs.”

 

The Demon Maelstrom, Excerpt #3

Dear Readers,

Here is the third excerpt from The Demon Maelstrom, the second book in the SubVersion Trilogy. I hope you enjoy, and I hope it keeps you guessing! Stay tuned for more news and content about the book, and as always, Let There Be Life!

EXCERPT #3

Her hands fell from her face and she glanced out the window again. It must be almost three o'clock, she thought. She checked her watch and confirmed the time as two forty-five. Her expression softened as she stared off through the falling snow to the west, trying to divine what lay beyond the city, beyond the beltway, inside a house miles away in the middle of a snow-covered field. Three o'clock was the prescribed time for a meeting more important than anything she was doing at Central Admin today.

She was startled from her reverie by Bridgit, who somehow had materialized right next to her without her noticing. Bridgit stood staring down at Anna's large belly with a serious look on her face, her manner uncharacteristically hesitant and quiet. She had only been part of Anna's coding team for a week but had already demonstrated an extraordinary aptitude for her work; she had also shown a penetrating mind that picked apart every bit of their project with a fervor that disturbed Anna to no end. If Anna was worried about any of her team discovering her secret, she was worried about Bridgit.

The younger woman stood wordlessly for a full minute, glancing out the window in the same direction as Anna before licking her lips and clearing her throat to speak. “I've got two questions before you get all gussied up for your party downstairs. If you have the time, that is.”

Anna nodded, her stomach clenching with a vague dread but her face betraying nothing. “I have a couple minutes. Go ahead.”

Bridgit's cocky grin half-appeared, but without its usual gusto. She scratched her chin nervously, the tattooed snake that encircled her wrist flexing with the movement. “I'm concerned about the new module code. I didn't want to say anything in front of Jeremy, but I think he's hit on something. A generic operating system process shouldn't be conflicting with the security software the way it has been.”

I was right, she is sharp, Anna thought uncomfortably. She put on a thoughtful face and regarded Bridgit with a cocked head. “Probably not. This module has been rewritten several times now, though. Did you think to check for any conflicting code from the previous version?”

Bridgit gave her a strange look, somewhere between respectful disagreement and incredulity. “That was the first thing I checked, before you even got here this morning. There was only new code. The conflict is occurring right where the module turns on. You get like two commands in and it just dies.” She narrowed her eyes at Anna. “Jeremy told me once that you sometimes set him up to look like the fool with some sort of 'lesson' in the code for him to pick apart. As fun as it is to do stuff like that to him, please tell me that's not what you were doing here.”

Partial relief washed over Anna and she gave a little smile. Jeremy must have been lying to gain sympathy, but it worked to Anna's advantage. She put a hand on Bridgit's arm. “No, I wasn't trying to test anyone, except maybe my own patience. I'll bring it home with me tonight and try to fix it, I'm sure it was just a stupid mistake on my part.”

Bridgit raised an eyebrow at her, not looking entirely convinced. “But you don't make mistakes.”

“I try not to,” Anna replied, growing wary again. “But statistically we're all bound to at some point.”

Shrugging, Bridgit appeared resigned to the answer. However, she still didn't turn to the door, only stood there with the same hesitant attitude. Anna frowned at her.

“You said you had two questions?” she inquired.

“I did, yes.” Bridgit's gaze moved back down to Anna's stomach. “You're . . . pregnant, right?”

Some Tidbits

The creation of The SubVersion Complex and the world it inhabits has been one of the most intensive, fun, infuriating, and inspiring projects I've ever worked on so far. While the next two books in the trilogy are already proving to be a far more monumental task in scope and emotional scale (I am writing them both at the same time for the sake of consistency), the first still astounds me by the simple fact that a year ago it didn't even exist, and now it does. It's humbling.

So I figured I would give back a little bit here, take a break from writing the second book and share a little about the process of writing the first. I found myself intrigued by the process, and I hope you do too. Call it a "behind-the-scenes" look. Or whatever, you get the idea. So here goes, a list of interesting tidbits about various aspects of the creation of the book.

(1) If you read the Acknowledgments section of the book, you'll notice that I credited the band Nero for indirectly providing the inspiration for the novel. It was a very weird inspirational moment. I had just finished writing and editing a short comedic novel and was bored thinking of what else I might write. So I began trolling the music videos on YouTube, and Nero's "Must Be the Feeling" popped up. I like Nero and I began to watch. The video was heavily dystopian/police-state in content, involving a car being chased by a robotic cop on a motorcycle. As the protagonists are chased at top speed through an unidentified city at night, a glowing billboard warns that the driver and passenger in the car are wanted by the government for "subversion," among other things. In a strange moment of word association, I distinctly remember pausing the video, opening my word processor up and typing down "The Subversion Matrix." That sounded too much like "The Matrix." So I typed beneath that "The Subversion Complex." And a title was born, with no story attached to it. I had no clue what a "Subversion Complex" was, but I was excited to discover what it meant.

(2) In my original treatment, the black box is not occupied by the little girl, but by the man Daniel Marcus himself, and the entire story revolved around Anna "meeting" him through the interface and finally breaking him free out of compassion.

(3) I wrote three separate openings to the book as tests, one of them even experimenting with first person. The first person opening went nowhere, thankfully.

(4) Practically every bit of "tech" in the book already exists in real life right now, in one form or another. The book is partly a true story in this regard. This includes the giant incinerator inside the Complex that Miriam is thrown into. That scene is based on a medical waste processing plant in the United States that incinerates the dismembered bodies of aborted children. Other tech that already exists includes the self-driving cars, the idea of the quantum computer, the lab-created babies, animal/human DNA mixing, robotic military vehicles, population control measures with drugs, the "aural dosing" sessions, even the reactive computer to a very limited degree.

(5) Real events in the news both inspired my writing with ideas for scenes, as well as flogged me to continue. Every time I put the book away and decided I was done writing for a time, something horrible or frustrating in the news would pop up to compel me to continue, and I thank God and/or my angel for providing those moments.

(6) Practically all of the names in the book have significance, whether intentionally on my part or discovered fortuitously later:

Mr. Vickers is a British name that I liked, but it also worked beautifully as a play on the word "vicar." Appropriate, since he is a priest.

Another name of significance is Daniel Marcus, who is obliquely named after former SEAL team member Marcus Luttrell of Lone Survivor fame. Besides being a good rugged name for a good rugged man, it provided a sort of homage to a particularly courageous real-life soldier.

Sonya was another name I chose with purpose, it being the Russian version of the Greek name Sophia, which means "wisdom." The name is an irony of sorts, as she is loaded up with knowledge via computer, but the inputting of that knowledge shows lack of wisdom on the part of the scientists controlling her.

Both the names Annalise and Miriam I chose because I liked them, only to discover later that they both meant very significant things for their respective owners. As Daniel tells Anna at the kitchen table in the book, her name means "full of grace." An irony of sorts at first, as Anna is about the least grace-filled woman at the beginning of her story. And Miriam was a spectacularly appropriate choice made by accident, a name meaning "sea of sorrow."

(7) The entire book was written without an outline. Whether for the better or the worse, that's how I do things. The book pretty much existed in my head, and just needed coaxing out onto the computer.

(8) Anna's friend Meghan, who joins Anna for coffee near the beginning of the book, is named after the singer Meghan Trainor of "All About That Bass" fame. Knowing that I can't stand Meghan Trainor will probably make the choice of name obvious.

And those are 8 tidbits about The SubVersion Complex that you may not have known. Now you do!

The Demon Maelstrom, Excerpt #2

Dear Readers,

Here is the second excerpt from The Demon Maelstrom, the second book in the SubVersion Trilogy. I hope you enjoy, and I hope it keeps you guessing! Stay tuned for more news and content about the book, and as always, Let There Be Life!


EXCERPT #2

 

Adam leaned back in his chair with a frown, and Anna noticed that he would not meet her gaze. He sat silently for a long moment, turned to look out the window in the far wall, then pulled his electronic cigarette out of his jacket pocket. He clicked it on and took a long draw. “You put a great amount of faith in the word of a convicted criminal such as Captain Marcus,” he replied, vapor leaking from his nostrils and lips as he spoke. “And a lot less faith in my decision-making. It was a simple determination. The opportunity of a lifetime presented itself, and it was far too good to pass up.”

“Why wasn't I told about this?” Anna asked indignantly, her ire rising.

Adam pursed his lips and shifted position. “Just because you are the Party Secretary-in-waiting doesn't mean that you are told everything. This was a classified operation, only a few people knew.”

“The plan was that we would wait until the system was complete before we sprang anything on Vérité!” Anna retorted hotly. “Or so I thought until I heard about this drone strike.” She rose out of her chair, confrontational and irate, her eyes flashing. “That was the plan, wasn't it? We need to stick to the plan!”

She realized too late that she was suddenly treading on very thin ice. Sinking back into her seat, Anna watched in growing alarm as Adam's face hardened. She had his full attention now. His eyes locked to hers and she saw wrath blooming in them like bursting fire. With one arm he swept aside the dishes between them and leaned full on the table, his breath blowing hot and hard enough for her to feel from where she sat opposite. His mouth twitched several times, as though forming words that would not come. He thrust an index finger at her.

“I–“ he said haltingly, “I am the plan, Anna.” His rage grew and spread. “I make the plan.” Finally he rose to his feet, planting both hands knuckles down on the table and angling towards her in a threatening gesture. His voice rose to a shout. “And I change the plan as I damn well see fit! Is that good enough for you?”

Anna's lower lip began to tremble with fear. Her emotion must have been contagious, for there came a sudden drubbing from inside her belly. Either the baby could feel her distress or it found Adam's voice frightening. In any case it kicked viciously in protest, making Anna's mouth drop open in a gasp of surprise and pain.

Adam continued angrily. “On top of that, I would have thought any chance to apprehend the head of Vérité would have been welcomed as a breakthrough development on your part, and yet you remain stuck in this holding pattern that you've created for yourself!” He straightened up and turned to the window again. “I brought you on because you fix things, because you take systems and you make them work.”

Anna bit her lip and suppressed a tear. “We were fixing things. We were working to fix your system. And I thought–”

“My system?” Adam queried in irascible surprise. “My system? You're calling everything around us my system? No, Anna this is not mine. It's my father's system, the last great rotting carcass of an idea of his stretching from the grave to haunt you and I.” He gestured dismissively to Anna's tumescent abdomen, where the thump thump still drummed from inside. “You're born, you grow, you eat and drink and screw and sleep and die. And then you're burnt. That unnatural thing inside you is no better than a lump of charcoal in the end.”

A sob swelled in Anna's throat and a tear rolled down her cheek. “It's a child, Adam, not a thing.”

The Demon Maelstrom - Excerpt #1

Dear Readers,

Here is the first excerpt from my new book, the second in the SubVersion Trilogy. I hope you enjoy, and I hope it keeps you guessing! Stay tuned for more news and content about the book, and as always, Let There Be Life!


EXCERPT #1

Holographic flames played about in their grate, the flickering light shining at intervals through clouds of vapor from an electronic cigarette. Besides the artificial fire in its artificial fireplace, no other light illuminated the darkened office except for the sickly bluish-gray glow from the window. Snow had mounded on the outside window sill and the panes of glass swirled with fantastic shapes of frost and ice.

In the large swiveling office chair in front of the fire sat the Secretary. His was a dark figure of worn gloom and stoic silence, the only movement being the motion of the right arm bringing the cigarette up to his lips and then back to the arm of the chair. His eyes gleamed with quiet intensity, only occasionally twitching to one side or another and focused stubbornly on the middle distance.

The desk beeped. After a long moment he roused himself, turned in the chair to the desk and tapped the button. He knew who was calling. “Yes, Major Forrest?”

“Sir, the surveillance drones have a signal. We've successfully located the tracking device.”

The Secretary's right eye twitched. He blinked and took another drag on his cigarette, and when he spoke again his voice sounded out low, almost threatening. “Would you please remind me again why Maelstrom demands a drone strike?”

Major Forrest's voice became uncertain. “Uh, he claims we won't get the prisoner until we prove ourselves. He says we won't regret it.”

The Secretary remained grim. “I don't need to prove a damn thing to anybody, Forrest.”

“Um, I'm sure you don't sir.”

“Just so we're clear.” The man roused himself and stood slowly, pushing up against the metal cane that supported him. “This is my strike, not Maelstrom's (whoever the hell he/she is), or Sam Holloway's. As far as the strike itself is concerned, I want the full treatment. Hit hard and fast with the Marauder, then coordinate with Farkas on a sweep of the grounds as fast as he can get the UCS Beta Squad there. Then report back to me.”

Major Forrest coughed and answered in the affirmative. The Secretary moved his hand to the comm button, but his fingers hovered above it without touching it yet. “And Major?”

“Yes, sir?”

“If this strike fails, know that heads will roll.”

A swallow. “Understood . . . sir.”

A tap of fingers on the button, and the comm died.

New Book, New Header, Book Two!

Well, I waited until the last possible minute here, but Book Two of the SubVersion Trilogy finally has a title! Originally I had intended to follow a "SubVersion" naming scheme, but that severely limited the scope of what I always meant to convey with the book titles. So instead, I literally went through dozens of possible titles after ditching the one I had up here, but at last I have one that is here to stay. Book Two will officially be titled The Demon Maelstrom.

To mark the occasion, and to show where we are in the progress of the trilogy, the header image above has been changed to reflect the new title. The header reflects the font that will be used for the title on the cover. Hopefully I'll have a cover design for the new book on display here in a couple days or weeks.

Stay tuned for excerpts from the new book, as well as various bits of info and sundry items. Let There Be Life!

Paperback Version Now Available!

I have the great pleasure to announce that the paperback version of The SubVersion Complex is now available in paperback from Amazon! Click here to purchase!